


Stranded

by a_shot_in_the_dark



Category: Common Law
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-26
Updated: 2014-02-26
Packaged: 2018-01-13 20:26:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1239697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_shot_in_the_dark/pseuds/a_shot_in_the_dark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wes and Travis are being flown across the world for a case, but when their plane crashes on a deserted island, they must make life and death decisions. But what will happen when they start to actually like each other?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stranded

**Author's Note:**

> Wasn't sure how to rate this/do the tags. But there is death/gore-ish?? No canon character deaths, but no promises on the original characters. There may be violence or sex. I haven't decided yet. I will update the rating as needed. Also I know nothing about airplanes or survival so please forgive any mistakes.
> 
> Sparked by an [imagineyourotp](http://imagineyourotp.tumblr.com/) post
> 
> Comments and kudos are appreciated, and I hope you enjoy!

“I hate overseas flights,” Wes said, looking green. Travis took a sip of the drink in his hand.

“Well, if we want to help the authorities find that girl, you're gonna have to suck it up, baby.”

“...Travis, that's _my_ drink!”

“Well, it's not like you were drinking it,” Travis responded with a smirk, tipping back the cup and swallowing the rest of the soda. Wes' eye twitched.

A younger blonde woman squeezed past Travis, sitting in the seat next to him across the aisle. Travis lit up, leaning over to talk to her. Wes held the barf bag tighter.

“Attention all passengers,” the captain said over the intercom, “Looks like we're heading into a storm. There's going to be some turbulence. Please remain calm and keep your seat belts fastened.”

Wes and Travis fastened their seat belts, glancing at each other, alarmed. The plane hit the turbulence, veering dangerously.

“Travis...” Wes whispered. Travis looked over at him fearfully.

Screaming. That was all Wes heard, and the whistle as the plane went down.

Wes woke up smelling smoke. He pushed himself up, then slipped. He looked at his hands. They were covered in blood. He successfully pushed himself up this time, looking around. The airplane was torn to pieces and on fire, bodies strewn all about. He caught sight of Travis a few feet away and crawled over to him. He slapped his cheeks.

“Travis, wake up.”

His partner opened his eyes with a gasp. “Wha... what?”

“The plane crashed. It's on fire.”

Travis managed to get them both standing and walking. He dropped Wes on the sand, then immediately hurried back in to help other people. He helped people out one by one until there were six of them. 

“Travis.”

“There's more. They won't wake up. Wes, they won't wake up, but I've gotta... there's more-”

“Travis,” Wes said, grabbing his shoulders, looking into his desperate blue eyes, “They're dead. I'm sorry. They're dead. We've gotta get away from the wreckage in case it explodes.”

Travis nodded slowly. Together, the two managed to get the other four away. Wes. Travis. The blonde woman. A young man with brown hair. An older man. An older woman. They watched the plane burn on the beach.

 

Eventually, the fire went out. They gathered as many supplies out of the airplane as they could, standing near the wreckage in silence.

“We should do something,” Travis murmured finally.

“Like what?” asked the older woman.

“There were fifty people on that plane. There's six of us. That means forty-four people died today,” Travis said. Wes looked to his face, but it was dark, unreadable. So distant from the Travis that was laughing with the young woman earlier.

“So you can do math,” the older man spat, “Good for you. Doesn't mean a thing.”

“Hey, show a little respect,” Wes growled.

“To him?!” 

“If not to him, then to the people who died here today,” Wes said. Travis started rummaging around in the wreckage.

“What are you looking for?” Wes asked.

“Something to shovel with.”

Wes wiped his hand across his face, smearing blood on it. “Travis, we need to deal with our injuries first.”

Travis looked back at him, noticed the blood and stopped. “...Okay. Injuries first.”

“I'm a doctor,” the man with the brown hair said, stepping forward. He used the first-aid kit from the plane to treat people's cuts. Wes' hand wounds were the most serious injuries. They were lucky. He treated and wrapped his wounds gently. 

“There.”

“You're pretty good.”

The man grinned. “Thanks. I'm Steven.”

“Wes.”

He shook his hand gingerly. Wes felt a hand on his back and turned to see Travis holding a wet cloth. He stood up, and Travis took his chin in his hand. Wes sucked in a breath, not sure what was happening. 

Travis smiled. “Relax. I'm wiping the blood off.”

Wes smiled nervously, letting him wipe it off his face. Steven nodded, walking away.

“There.”

Wes nodded his thanks, walking back over to the others. They had gathered in a circle on the beach.

“Before we talk, I'd like to start with a prayer. For the dead,” the older woman said. No one objected. “Dear Lord, I ask that you bring peace to the souls that lost their lives today, and I thank you for the lives that were saved. Please help us in these troubled times. Amen.”

“All right,” Wes started, “I think first we should introduce ourselves. It'll make things a lot easier. I'm Wes Mitchell.”

Steven nodded next to him. “Steven Lawley.”

The older woman was next. “Gloria Santiago.”

“Ted Cunningham,” the older man said. He looked at the blonde woman beside him.

“Ruth Blake.”

“Travis Marks.”

“Okay good. I think our first order of business should be food, water, and shelter.”

“Wes, the bo-”

“I know the bodies are a priority, too,” he told Travis. Travis looked away, picking at the sand.

“Animals might go after the bodies if we leave them out,” Ted said.

“Everyone deserves a burial,” Gloria said quietly.

“Our survival is more important at the moment. We can't dig graves without water. We'll die of thirst,” Steven said.

“We're surrounded by the fucking ocean, you idiot!” snapped Ted. 

“It's salt water, moron,” Steven responded, “It'll make you thirstier.”

“So where are we going to find water?”

“In there,” Wes said, pointing to the jungle just off the beach, “That's our best bet for water. Water's the most important thing right now. Does anybody have any idea what island we're on? Where we're at?”

It was silent. 

“I was afraid of that. Well, let's survive before we do anything else. We have a lot of water bottles, but we should find a water source so we're not left with nothing. We have some food, too, and it shouldn't be hard to collect fruit from the jungle. One team of two should go looking for a water source. And the rest of us should start building shelters.”

They decided that Gloria and Ted would look for a water source. The rest began building the shelters out of whatever materials they could find, Ruth leading them in the endeavor. She had evidently built homes for people in need.

“Wes, I'm going to start a grave for the bodies.”

Wes just nodded, and Travis walked off down the beach.


End file.
